Turn Not Your Eyes from Me
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #51 Spock is home from Vulcan. His daughter T'Beth is engaged to be married. Jim Kirk and his wife have a baby on the way. But all too quickly the best of times can turn into the worst of times...when calamity strikes.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Deep in thought, T'Beth strode down the driveway of her father's house and set out on a walk. It was a sunny July morning, the air still and balmy, but she scarcely noticed the weather. She had left her daughter Bethany in the kitchen with Lauren. All the children were helping bake cookies for Jim and Antonia Kirk. It was Lauren's way of dealing with anxiety, and today she was as jumpy as an Ildaran bushcat because her friend Antonia was giving birth in Idaho.

Just now, T'Beth was dealing with her own share of tension. Before long her leave would be over, and something inside her stubbornly resisted setting a wedding date. Her initial happiness over Aaron Pascal's proposal of marriage had been slowly giving way to doubt. At first there was the matter of her career. She enjoyed her work on Sydok for Starfleet's diplomatic corps and had always felt as if God called her to it. Aaron's position as Head of Starfleet Research and Development kept him tied to San Francisco Headquarters. Unless one of them made a change, their marriage would be a long distance affair—the same difficult situation that Spock and Lauren had struggled with for years.

And now, unexpectedly, T'Beth found herself facing an even more troubling complication. The news of Jim's baby was stirring up a whole firestorm of emotions. Of course she felt happy for the couple; _surely_ she was happy. Then why the traitorous stabs of jealousy? Was she really resentful that Toni was having Jim's baby? Or was she just envious of their settled, comfortable life?

The answer was painfully clear. Not long ago, she had been furious when she thought Jim sent her a love note, yet now here she was, pining after him. What was she going to do? Aaron deserved something more from her than a divided heart.

Rising from her worries, she found that—literally, as well as symbolically—she had reached another crossroads. She stopped at the curb. In a nearby tree, a flock of birds let out a raucous call and took off flying. She was still watching them when she heard a rumble. The ground under her feet jolted, then everything went silent.

Such was life in San Francisco. Shrugging it off, she chose a direction and resumed walking. All over the neighborhood, dogs began to howl.

oooo

"Push!"

At the doctor's command, Antonia reared up yet again and focused all her energy on delivering the baby. Jim supported his wife's shoulders, and watching a strategically placed mirror, saw a hairy little head start to crown.

"That's it," the doctor encouraged, "you're doing great, you're almost there…"

"Breathe," Jim reminded Antonia…and himself.

She gasped and gritted her teeth and kept pushing. Down below, the doctor did what he could to help. Bit by bit the wet, greasy head eased from the birth canal. Antonia sucked in a deep breath and tried again. The doctor's knowledgeable fingers freed a little pair of shoulders. Then all at once, the rest of the baby slid free. The doctor caught her in in a towel and suctioned the airways. The baby coughed and struggled. Her skin began to take on a healthy hue.

The cord was severed, the little face wiped clean.

Jim gazed in wonder at his newborn daughter as the doctor wrapped her more securely and placed her in Antonia's arms. Antonia began to weep for joy.

"Oh, Jim," she said, nothing more.

After a moment she held out the child to him. Jim's throat ached as he gathered up the warm little bundle and held her close. Elena True. Yes, that was the name they had chosen in honor of their favorite grandmothers. Hardly five minutes old and Tru had already stolen his heart.

oooo

When the jolt occurred, Spock glanced up from his computer. In California as on Mount Seleya, one came to expect seismic events. This one was small. He saw no reason to leave his study, where he was tending to a long-distant Yanashite concern and staying clear of Lauren's anxious mood. He knew that she would relax only after Jim and Antonia's baby was safely born.

No sooner had he turned back to business than he stopped again. Though the windows were closed, he could hear dogs howling…and it _almost_ seemed that he heard something else, as well. On the very fringe of his lower auditory range. Something indefinable, yet so ominous that he could feel hairs prickling.

Tipping his head, he listened harder. The certainty grew. Yes, there _was_ something there.

He stood up.

And suddenly the earth thundered. The floor pitched beneath his feet, throwing him off-balance. He hit the desk hard and sprawled onto the carpet. Glass shattered. Shelves came crashing down. The walls buckled and wrenched and still the house kept shaking.

oooo

T'Beth landed on the sidewalk. She could feel the cement heaving and cracking under her. In terror she watched the ground ripple, trees sway, limbs snap and fall. Over the roaring she heard screams. Her eyes focused on a house. Near it, the earth was rending apart. The ground opened wide and swallowed half the foundation. Water spewed from broken pipes, electric wires crackled. The house flipped like a toy and slid partway down the hole.

Up the street she heard an explosion. Then another. The terror deepened and she cried out for her child, for her father. She cried out to God, but the shaking continued.

Sirens began to wail. T'Beth recognized the SEW system—Seismic Early Warning, installed with the assistance of Vulcans half a century ago—and suppressed an hysterical urge to laugh. _What damn good was it now?_ And there was only rumbling and swaying and the whole world collapsing around her.

Then, quite abruptly, it all stopped. For a moment T'Beth just lay there absorbing the strange, wonderful stillness, her ears filled with the hammering of her heart. Gradually she became aware of voices. People calling to one another. People weeping.

Numbly she sat up. The palms of her hands stung and she saw that they were scraped and bleeding. Raising her eyes, she looked around at the devastation. It might have been some bombed out Donari city, but her heart told her it was not. She thought of Bethany back at her father's house, down in the kitchen, and got to her feet. And then she was running.

oooo

The house grew still.

In the act of picking himself off the floor, Spock discovered that his right wrist was quite possibly fractured. It was not important. All that mattered was that his home was standing. Despite substantial structural damage, it had held. The family must evacuate at once, before an aftershock brought the house down.

He was making his way across the room, stepping over debris, when a scent of smoke reached him. The door to his adjacent bedroom stood ajar. Inside, the votive candle Lauren kept burning had fallen off her dresser and landed on the floor among some papers. The fire was hot and already beginning to spread. Using his left arm, he dragged the coverlet off the bed and used it to smother the flames. Satisfied, he went to the hall door. Though the frame was warped, he managed to muscle the door open. The air in the hallway was thick with plaster dust—one breath and he began coughing. Around him, the house creaked and settled.

"Lauren!" he called, and holding a sleeve to his lower face, started working his way through the haze. They had performed earthquake drills. Perhaps everyone was already outside.

As he carefully moved forward, the hallway became inexplicably brighter. Nearing the stairs, his steps slowed, until at last he came to a complete halt.

As the dust continued to settle, Spock stared in horror. The staircase was buried in rubble. Overhead, the roof was gone and he stood looking at open blue sky. But more than the roof was missing. This entire section of the upper story had come crashing down—on the entryway, on the living room…and on the kitchen.

oooo

The hard part was over. The baby had safely arrived. The medical staff had finished with Antonia and little Tru. Now the three of them could just rest and enjoy one another's company.

Jim watched his beautiful daughter nestle in Antonia's arms, and thought that he had never been so content. It had not been like this when his son David was born. Then, Jim had been married to his Starfleet career. There had been no relationship with the boy until the very end, just before David died. David had not even carried the Kirk name.

This time it was going to be different. This time they were a family.

A commotion in the corridor disturbed their peaceful moment. A nurses' aide poked her head through the doorway.

"Big earthquake," she said, "check your monitor."

Antonia sighed. "Let's not. I don't want to hear any bad news. Why don't you call Lauren instead? Let her know the baby's here. She's been waiting."

Jim pulled a phone out of a pocket and flipped it open. He hit Spock's code and waited for the call to go through. There was no ringing, only a crackling sound, and then an urgent, repetitious beeping. He tried again. More beeping. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

"I'll be right back," he said and hurried out the door.

oooo

"Father! Mom!"

The desperate shouts seemed to come from the sky. Standing in the littered hallway, Spock struggled to focus his mind.

The cry sounded again. "Father, are you there? Mom! Answer me!"

Spock recognized his eldest son's voice and realized that it was indeed originating from outside.

"Mom, Father, anybody, _please!"_

Spock backtracked up the hallway to Teresa's room. The western wall had broken partly away from the main structure and the floor was sloped at a 17 degree angle. Hoping it would not collapse, he made his way over to a cracked window and looked down into the backyard. Simon was kneeling in the grass.

Relieved, Spock wrenched open the window and called out, "Simon! Are you injured?"

The boy immediately looked up. His eyes scanned the house for some sign of him. "No, I'm fine! Where are you?"

"Up here!" Spock shouted.

Their eyes met and the ground began quaking. Spock instinctively grabbed at the window casing with both hands, sending an explosion of pain through his right wrist. All around him, the house creaked and swayed. Then it was over.

In the yard below, Simon rose off his knees.

"I'm coming down," Spock told him.

Years ago, when this room belonged to T'Beth, she had devised an ingenious method of sneaking away to evade his authority. Now Spock pushed out the window screen, and reminding himself that pain was only a matter of the mind, he climbed out feet first onto the sagging porch roof, then eased down until his legs dangled over the edge. Cradling his wrist, he jumped, landed awkwardly, and tumbled into the grass.

Simon ran over and helped him sit up, anxiously talking all the while. "Is your arm broken? I was out in the yard. I saw it happen. Where's Mom? Where is everyone?"

Spock made no attempt to answer as he got to his feet, turned around, and took his first look at his home. From the outside, the wreckage seemed even worse than he had visualized. He felt his throat tightening with emotion.

"Father." Simon was right beside him. "Father, where _are_ they?"

With his good arm Spock reached out and drew his son close.

oooo

Slowly Jim walked back to the hospital room where his wife and newborn child were waiting. He did not have to tell Antonia about San Francisco. In his absence she had turned on the monitor. Scenes of ruin were being shown all over the Federation.

"Oh, Jim," she said, reaching out to him. Her dark eyes brimmed with tears. "Have you heard anything? Are they alright?"

Jim grasped her warm hand like a lifeline. "I don't know. Communications are down. Thankfully, Bones was off in Georgia visiting his daughter…"

As if reading his mind, she said, "What about Starfleet Headquarters?"

"I checked into it. Most of their buildings are in good shape, and some transporters are functional. With authorization you can still beam in." He hesitated, unsure how she would receive his next words. "Antonia, I asked for permission. Headquarters said I could go. They gave me an hour's clearance."

"An hour." She did not even blink. "Are you sure the transporters are safe?"

"They won't let me through if they're not." It was what he had been telling himself and he sincerely hoped it was true. "Toni, I can't just sit here and do nothing."

"Then go", she said. "Do whatever you can. I'll be praying."

Jim's heart welled with love as he kissed them both goodbye.

oooo

T'Beth felt as if she had been working her way uphill forever, climbing through downed trees, dodging debris, avoiding the gaping fissures that had opened in the earth. Frequent aftershocks stopped her in her tracks. Now and then a survivor grabbed her by the arm and begged for help in digging some loved one out of a collapsed building.

"I'm sorry," she kept repeating. "I have a little girl. I have family here, too. I have to find _them_."

Smoke began to drift in the air. Down a side street, she saw flames eating at a caved-in structure. Nearby, a woman stood screaming. T'Beth heard a roar of engines swooping down from the sky. A fire tug flashed overhead, bombed the flames with bay water, and vanished into the distance.

Fighting panic, she headed back up the hill. The neighborhood was unrecognizable. How would ever find her father's home? What would she find when she got there?

Then, just up ahead, an address post came into view. _It was his!_ Breaking into a run, she jumping over tree limbs and buckled pavement. A corner of the roof showed through the trees. _The old house had_ _survived!_ Weak with relief, she slowed down. After all, there was no rush now. Everyone was okay.

Then picking her way around a fallen tree, the entire house came into view.

T'Beth froze. Her hands went to her mouth. From somewhere deep inside her, a terrible shriek rose. In her shock she had not noticed the two men standing at the base of the wreckage. Then Simon was rushing toward her and she was in his arm, sobbing.

oooo

Jim emerged from the transporter beam dizzy and disoriented. A hand reached out to steady him. Despite the assistance, he nearly fell before his brain could comprehend that the floor was shaking, and adjust for it. He found his balance and then the quake ended.

"Aftershock, sir," explained the ensign in attendance. "We can expect a lot of them. Admiral, are you here to help?"

Judging by the young man's hopeful expression, he was expecting the former Starfleet legend—civvies and all—to snap his fingers and make everything right.

"Captain," Jim corrected, stepping off the locus. "I retired as a captain. Does your family live here in town?"

He nodded and Jim's heart went out to him. "I'm sorry to hear that, son. Try to be strong. All any of us can do is help one person at a time."

Not waiting for a response, he turned and headed around a corner, toward the transportation desk. The place was a lot quieter than he had expected, and fully electrified. Other than a little broken glass, there was no sign that anything unusual had happened here. The building's architect would be proud.

He was almost to the desk when a bearded man in a disheveled uniform came bolting down a corridor and cut in front of him. A heavy-looking bag hung from his shoulder. The rude fellow leaned with both hands on the transportation counter and fought to catch his breath.

A lone clerk looked up.

"Captain Aaron Pascal," gasped the Frenchman. "I need a skimmer immediately. _Tout suite!"_

Startled, Jim moved in beside him. "Pascal," he said dryly. "I didn't realize that was you butting in."

T'Beth's fiancé beheld him with his own share of surprise. "Kirk! I thought you were in Idaho."

"I just beamed over." Hopefully Jim asked, "Have you heard from Spock? From his family?"

"Communications are down. I'm trying to get out there and check."

"So am I," Jim told him. "We can share a skimmer."

The clerk spoke up. "The air is closed to all but emergency traffic and evacuees. And that includes groundcars. Nothing's moving, sir. Anyway, the skimmers are gone—they were all turned over to Search and Rescue. Sorry."

Jim bit back a curse.

Pascal absorbed the news with unbelievable composure. Still breathing a bit heavily, he said, "We'll have to find some other way." He began to turn, then glanced back at the clerk as if something had caught his eye. Now staring opening, he moved in behind the counter and asked, "What is that thing crawling on your right shoulder?"

The clerk jumped. As his head swung around for a look, Pascal reached out. His hand closed over the clerk's opposite shoulder, near where it joined his neck. The clerk slumped forward, unconscious, and Pascal eased him to the floor.

"Young man," said the Frenchman, "this _is_ an emergency."

Jim's jaw dropped. "How did you do that?"

Pascal was already working the console. Studying the readout, he said, "This fellow was telling the truth. There aren't any skimmers—but wait a minute! Here's something." He quickly secured it for their use, then started down the corridor at a brisk pace.

"Come on," he said to Kirk, "hurry!"

Jim ran to catch up, and then they were side by side.

"A nerve pinch!" Jim could not get over it. "Spock taught you?"

"But of course," Pascal answered matter-of-factly.

Embarrassed, Jim kept his mouth shut. Over the years, Spock had tried to teach him, too—repeatedly. He had never been able to get the hang of it, but then, few humans ever did.

They arrived at the transportation depot and walked out into the yard. The air reeked of smoke and they had to step carefully because the pavement had been broken into slabs.

Jim looked around and saw only ground cars. "Where's the skimmer?"

"I didn't say anything about a skimmer," came the astonishing reply. Pascal kept moving. Something caught his eye and he turned sharply.

Jim was getting annoyed. If there was no skimmer, why were they wasting their time here?

Pascal leaned over to examine a fallen Airbike. "Give me a hand," he said.

Jim helped set the machine upright. He watched, incredulous, as Pascal swiped his Starfleet I.D. through the bike's reader, and climbed on.

Pascal unhooked a pair of helmets hanging from the bike. Strapping one on, he asked, "Are you coming?"

"On _that?"_ Jim exclaimed.

Pascal powered up the machine. "Sorry, Captain," he said with more than a hint of sarcasm, "the starships have all been taken."

Jim felt like knocking his ass off the bike, but controlling himself, he grabbed the other helmet and jumped on. Then they were in the air, and what he saw made him forget any personal animosity. The early news coverage had not conveyed the full scope of this disaster. Everywhere he looked, buildings were in state of collapse. Some skyscrapers were entirely missing. Huge columns of smoke rose from the business district, creating a pungent haze that made his eyes water. Smaller blazes could be seen all over the residential neighborhoods. The city was in complete ruin.

Jim clung tight to Pascal and looked out at the Golden Gate Bridge. Its roadbed was severely damaged. Fire tugs hovered over the bay, taking up water, then darting off to chase fires. Skimmers moved in all directions.

Suddenly the bike dipped, narrowly missing an air ambulance. Jim felt his adrenaline surge.

"We're as illegal as hell!" he shouted. Even if they survived this crazy ride, they might well be arrested and thrown in jail for defying the emergency restrictions. Not that it would have stopped Jim, but he was surprised—yet again—that T'Beth's Frenchman was not playing it safe. He did not fit Jim's idea of a scientist, but then Spock had not always fit the image, either.

The thought of Spock and his family sent a fresh shaft of pain through his heart. _T'Beth. Lauren. The_ _children._ Images of crushed or burned bodies flashed through his mind as they soared closer and closer to their destination.

Pascal turned in the general direction of Spock's home and began to slow. Block after block of rubble passed beneath them. They dodged a half dozen fires and arced around for a closer look. Everywhere the damage was just as terrible.

Now Pascal came in low, just a few meters above the treetops. Survivors were milling around aimlessly, as if dazed. Would they ever find Spock? Were they even searching the right neighborhood?

oooo

With his two eldest children beside him, Spock stared at the ruin of his home and attempted to think logically. Now that the first shock was passing, he could sense deep in his bonding center that his wife was not dead, after all. But that certainty only intensified the urge to tear through the rubble with his bare hands—one of which was now useless. There was no way to approach the present calamity with complete dispassion. He knew that the Shiav would not expect it, would not even advocate it. But Yanash would expect him to control his fear and think clearly.

Aloud he said, "Lauren is alive."

Simon swung around, clutching at the straw of hope. "Mom's alive? Are you sure?"

"As certain as any bonded Vulcan can be," Spock replied. "The children were most likely in the kitchen close by her, baking cookies as they had planned. Therefore it is possible that they also have survived."

"We have to get help," Simon cried. A rescue flight was passing overhead. Running after it, he waved his arms, yelling, "Wait! Over here! Come back!"

T'Beth watched, silent tears running down her face.

The flight continued on and Simon trudged back up the driveway.

"That was a waste of energy," Spock told him.

The teen gave him an angry look. "What am I supposed to do? Nothing? Tell me what to do!"

Spock felt his own composure starting to slip. It was taking more and more effort to view the situation with any detachment, but he reminded himself that however dark the situation appeared, there was One whose unfailing strength would sustain them.

Finally he said, "Simon, I share your frustration. Considering the scope of this disaster, who knows when help will reach us? A wise man once said, 'We must pray as if everything depended upon God and work as if everything depended upon us'."

"Yanash?" Simon ventured to guess.

"A human named St. Ignatius of Loyola. It is excellent advice. First let us seek God's help in prayer, then we will formulate a plan of action."

It was in that moment of silent recollection that Spock remembered. He opened his eyes. "Simon. Out in the tool shed. I am certain there is a laser saw."

The teenager gladly ran to find it.

Spock looked at his daughter's pale, stricken face. "We know where they are likely to be found. Piece by piece, we will cut our way toward them."

She gave a slow, disheartened nod, then seemed to rouse herself. Softly she said, "Thank God you're here." Her eyes went to his swollen, discolored wrist. "Let me get that splinted for you."

oooo

Jim was starting to get airsick. With each turn of the bike, he felt his hope slipping away. From up here, it was all but impossible to identify the area. There was so little left to recognize. Everything looked the same.

At last Pascal brought the bike down in the middle of a street and asked directions from a man standing forlornly on the broken pavement.

The man considered. Pointing his finger westward, he said, "Next block over."

Then they were back in the air.

Jim's pulse raced with excitement. How utterly simply, how obvious. Ask for directions. Pascal really _was_ a genius.

Treetops rushed by as they followed the rise of the hill. Spock's place would be among those at the top. Here and there, a house was still standing. Maybe Spock's would be standing, too.

"There!" Up ahead, Jim glimpsed a section of roof.

Pascal dropped altitude, swerved to avoid a fallen tree, and aimed at a clear patch of driveway. The Airbike landed with a thud that jolted Jim's spine, but he scarcely noticed. For a long, terrible moment neither he nor Pascal moved. Together they sat staring at the collapsed structure.

High atop the wreckage, Simon was preparing to wield the laser saw under his father's direction. It would be T'Beth's job to hurl the severed chunks of debris out of the way. Hearing a bike land, she glanced up from her unsteady perch and saw the newcomers. They were not from Search and Rescue, but the helmeted pair appeared to be men, and one wore a Starfleet uniform.

Waving an arm, she shouted, "Hello!"

Abruptly the pair climbed off the bike, removed their helmets, and headed over.

T'Beth saw their faces and her heart leaped. "Dad, it's Jim! It's Aaron!"

She hurried down off the pile and there was no question of who to embrace first. Aaron had already caught hold of her with a fierceness of emotion that moved her to tears.

With a catch in his voice, Aaron said, "I thought I lost you."

They kissed. Then T'Beth hugged Jim and filled them in on the situation. Jim rolled up his sleeves and went over to help Spock and Simon.

Aaron swung a bag off his shoulder. Reaching inside, he drew out a tricorder and said, "This will tell us…" There was no need for him to say anything more.

Struck with fear, T'Beth stared at the sensing device. She almost wished he had not brought it. She was not ready to hear that her daughter, and perhaps the rest of her family, were all crushed to death. She wanted to cling to hope a little longer.

Somehow she forced out the words. "Go ahead. I'll stay here."

Aaron's kind eyes told her that he understood fully, that this task was not easy for him, either. She watched him walk up the driveway and stop at the heap of debris. Glancing toward her father, she saw that he had taken notice of the tricorder. Then Simon and Jim also realized what was happening and paused in their work.

As Aaron bent over the tricorder to study its readings, T'Beth pressed a fist to her mouth and waited.

Raising his head, Aaron flashed a quick smile at everyone. "They're alive!" he announced loudly. "They're all in there…together… _alive!"_

oooo

Deep down in the darkness, three frightened children huddled beneath the butcher block table where Lauren had shoved them before the ceiling collapsed.

"Where is she?" Teresa repeated tearfully, and called out yet again, "Mom! Mom! Can't you hear me?"

No one answered.

"Listen!" James hissed.

Teresa heard only the drip, drip, dripping of the broken pipes. Then…a rumble. All at once, everything was shaking again. Pieces of the house were shifting and she cried out in terror.

Finally it stopped.

Pressed close against her, Bethany trembled and whimpered, "Mommy…mommy…"

Teresa reached into the black places beyond their cramped refuge. Nothing much had changed. If anything, the wreckage trapping them was jammed even tighter than before. She kept thinking of her mother somewhere under it. _Why wouldn't she answer? Was she dead?_

"Jamie," she cried.

She felt her brother's arm slip around her and was comforted. Her thoughts wandered back to the early years when James had been so small and sickly, and she was always the one comforting him. Things had been different since Yanash healed him. Mom started taking them to church, enrolled them at St. Bridget School, and even took time to pray with them. All the changes had made Teresa happy, except for the way Daddy spent so much of his time on Vulcan with the Yanashites. And now maybe he was dead, too. At that terrible thought, she broke down completely and sobbed.

oooo

All day the aftershocks came and went, shifting the debris, making the recovery effort treacherous. They divided themselves into two work teams, spelling each other as they cut their way down through the rubble. Spock did what he could to help, but even with his wrist splinted, his right hand barely functioned. Using his good hand, he dragged patio furniture to a makeshift camp in the front yard. He gathered outdoor solar lights and brought them to the work site for later. Food and water would be a problem. Aaron's bag contained some cheese, a few apples, and a Water Genie that drew moisture directly from the air. The Genie could produce a cup of water per hour and considerably more if the fog rolled in. Everyone was thirsty.

At one point during the day, Spock walked up and down the street, offering the use of their tricorder to neighbors with trapped loved ones. In all too many cases, there were no life signs. As evening approached, Simon climbed a ladder into Teresa's bedroom window and retrieved some blankets, warm clothing, and his violin. At sundown the fog came, and Jim and Simon began another shift.

T'Beth and Aaron picked their way out of the debris and passed her father, who had the tricorder humming again. If there was any change, he would tell them. Worn out, they settled side by side onto lawn chairs and covered themselves with blankets. Up at the work site, the cluster of yard lights cast an eerie glow.

With a shiver T'Beth thought of her daughter, of all of them trapped somewhere under the ruined house. "They must be cold down there."

Aaron brought out a pocket knife, sliced up a big, red apple and put some pieces in her hand. The fruit was juicy and delicious, but her throat tightened as she ate.

"If Bethany doesn't make it…"

"She will," Aaron reassured her. "They all will."

"…I don't think I could go on without her," she finished dispiritedly. Her heart was leaden and she felt close to tears. It seemed as if she had been crying all day.

Gently Aaron said, "Bethany is alright. Life will go on. There will be three of us, T'Beth. Three of us, together."

Turning, she dimly saw the contours of his bearded face. "Aaron, you're so patient with me, so kind. Somehow, after the quake, I knew you would be alright. That didn't worry me, but I never thought you'd find your way here. Strange that you and Jim came together. On an Airbike!" And she could not help adding, "I bet that was Jim's idea."

When at last Aaron spoke, his voice was painfully wooden. "My patience only goes so far, T'Beth. You promised to marry me, but won't discuss a date. Now you say that you weren't even concerned about my safety. As for the Airbike, ask the bold Captain Kirk—his was the first name on your lips when we arrived."

As he got up and walked away, T'Beth felt as if her heart was breaking in two.

oooo

Something shook Teresa and she woke up scared, but this time it was not an earthquake. Jamie's hand was pushing on her shoulder.

"Are you awake?" he whispered excitedly. "I heard something!"

Teresa listened. All around, it was dark and silent. She started to shiver. "I don't hear anything. I'm so cold, Jamie."

Close beside her, Bethany stirred in her sleep.

"I'm thirsty, too," Teresa said low. "And awfully hungry…"

"So am I," James admitted.

Teresa felt hot tears welling in her eyes. "I think Mom's dead. I think everyone's dead."

At first James made no reply. Then, very softly, he said, "We'll see them in Heaven. Remember?"

The idea made Teresa feel a little better. "Maybe…maybe we'll see them pretty soon. I wonder what it's like. To die."

They decided that now would be a good time to pray.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

All night, foghorns sounded from the bay, and morning was as misty as ever. Jim knew that the longer the fog hung on, the better. Though it meant there would be more drinking water, Spock was stubbornly refusing his share. He was Vulcan, he said, and because of his injury he was not able to share fully in the workload. Never mind that he was one-handedly moving plenty of the smaller debris, or that he had spent all night monitoring transmissions in his parked skimmer and picked up valuable information about emergency response centers. Best of all, he had established contact and put them on a priority list for rescue services.

Jim was too weary to argue about water or anything else. For him, this was the second night of lost sleep, and he was not getting any younger. His thoughts kept turning to Antonia and their newborn daughter…and his clean, comfortable bed at the ranch.

He was working the debris pile with Simon when Pascal took the Airbike and went out to find a response center that Spock had pinpointed in the area. A short time later he swung around, ready to toss a hunk of two-by-four, and came face to face with T'Beth. It did not matter one bit that he was happily married and bone-tired; her nearness still managed to stir him in unacceptable ways.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?" he said good-naturedly.

She maneuvered beside him and began to help. Down in the work pit, Simon wielded the laser saw and tossed the cuttings up where they could reach them.

"Hear that?" T'Beth asked. "Off in the distance. The people calling for help.'

Jim nodded, grabbed hold of some sheet rock, and sent it sailing. He had been hearing desperate cries ever since he arrived.

T'Beth said, "When I'm working, I don't notice it as much. I don't think as much, either."

He spared her a glance. "You look like you're ready to drop."

She tried to smile and failed miserably. "You should see yourself." For a moment they worked in silence. Then she said, "I never asked about the baby. Is everything okay?"

Jim experienced a rush of gratitude that his own little family was safe. "Yes, everything went fine. The baby's beautiful. But I heard about the quake and had to come. Spock is like a brother to me. It's what Antonia wanted, too."

T'Beth sank onto the rubble and pushed a strand of dark hair from her smudged face.

"We'll find them," he promised. "It won't be long now. Maybe Aaron will snag some rescue workers." He thought hard before saying anything more. Tired as he was, he had sensed the strain between T'Beth and her fiancé overnight. Finally he added, "If anyone can do it, he will. That Frenchman of yours is a formidable force."

She shot him a quizzical look. "What do you mean—formidable?"

Jim had to chuckle. As he worked, he described the previous day's adventure with Pascal—from the sneaky Vulcan nerve pinch to the white-knuckled Airbike flight. "I tell you, if it weren't for him, I'd probably still be out there somewhere, trying to thumb a ride." Sobering, he gathered an armload of debris. "I used to think that a career was everything. I was wrong. It's family. _Family_ is the only thing that really matters."

Below them, Simon turned off the saw. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he hollered into the diminishing stack of rubble. "Mom! Jamie! Teresa! Do you hear me? Bethany! Make some noise!"

They all listened hard.

T'Beth called down to Simon. "Do you hear anything?"

"I don't know," came the reply. "I'm not sure."

Spock came over to the base of the pile and operated the tricorder. "The readings are strong," he announced.

Simon started the saw and resumed working.

Teresa awoke suddenly, from a dark dream in which she had been hearing voices. Nearby, James and Bethany were breathing with a slow deep rhythm, asleep.

Somewhere overhead a giant bee began buzzing. It sounded angry, like it was chewing at the house, trying to get at her.

"Jamie…" Her voice quavered. "Jamie!"

James and Bethany moved as if they were trying to stretch, but there was no room for it. Teresa had tried a lot of times. Her legs hurt from being cramped for so long.

"There's a bee!" she cried.

James yawned and went still. "That's not a bee."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know, Resa, but it's not a bee. I can tell; my ears are better."

It was a sore subject between them. Teresa started to get irritated. "Just because they're pointed like Daddy's?"

"No," James said impatiently, "because my _hearing_ is like his—Vulcan hearing. You know that."

Teresa was not convinced. "It still sounds like a big bee to me."

Bethany must have thought so, too. Suddenly she began to shriek with fear.

"Stop!" T'Beth screamed, her heart pounding. "Simon, turn off the saw!"

The saw went quiet.

T'Beth leaned over, staring into the pit. A distant, muffled cry rose eerily from the rubble. "It's Bethany! I hear her—my baby!" A sob tore at her chest. Leaping down beside her brother, she began ripping at the debris.

"No!" Simon and Jim shouted together.

She scarcely heard the protests. Simon grabbed hold of her arms, and they were wrestling. Reaching down from above, Jim caught her in a headlock.

"Knock it off!" Jim snapped. "We have to go slow! Do you want to bring everything crashing down on them?"

T'Beth swallowed the worst of her fury and stopped struggling. On a rational level, she knew that Jim and Simon were right, but she did not like being manhandled or yelled at.

"Let go of me!" she snapped, hating them both.

They freed her. Scrambling out of the hole, she turned all her anger on Jim. "I was out walking when the quake hit! Bethany would have been with me, but no—she wanted to help bake cookies—for you! If it wasn't for you, she'd be safe now!"

Simon watched from the rim of the hole. "That's crazy, T'Beth! It isn't anyone's fault. Go away and leave us alone."

Climbing down off the wreckage, she brushed past her father, who had stood silently observing the scene. Behind her, she heard him say, "Jim, she did not mean it. She is overwrought."

 _How the hell did he know what she meant?_ Seething, she stalked down the driveway and waited in the fog. Several minutes passed before she began to consider what it was— _who_ it was—that she was actually waiting for. On the ground and in the air, from all around came the sounds of rescue attempts and human despair. She strained to pick out the hum of the Starfleet Airbike. Where was Aaron? Had he been arrested for defying the ban on air travel? Had he gotten into an accident? What if someone had attacked him and stolen the bike? What if the fog was too thick for him to find his way back? What if he chose never to come back? With each successive thought, she grew more panicky. Standing there alone, she realized how much she had been taking Aaron's love for granted and how little love she had shown him.

Out in the fog, a single light appeared and steadily moved closer. As it approached, she heard a humming sound. The bike broke out of the mist and landed near her in the driveway. Aaron removed his helmet. Stepping off the bike, he lowered a bulging sack from his shoulder.

T'Beth closed the distance between them and caught him in her arms. "I was so worried. I was afraid that you'd never make it back."

Aaron kissed her and searched her eyes and seemed pleased by what he found. Smiling tiredly, he said, "I located the relief center. They said a rescue team might be here today. Look what they gave us." He reached into the sack and pulled out another laser saw. "There are meal packs and some water here, too."

T'Beth seized him by the shoulders. "Aaron, I heard Bethany crying! I heard her, but they sent me away!"

His smile returned. "We're getting close, then. We must be very careful. Wait here, _amoureux_. I'm taking the saw up to the men, and when I come back down, Bethany will be in my arms."

oooo

"I told you it wasn't a bee," James said.

Teresa wanted to jump with excitement, but there was still no way to move. Now, two buzzing machines were tearing at the rubble overhead. Best of all, they could hear voices. By shouting back and forth to the workers, she found out that Daddy and T'Beth and Simon were all alive.

Impatient to get free, Teresa kept yelling to them, "Hurry up!"

"Hang on!" came Simon's reply. "We're getting close!"

"Mommy!" Bethany shouted. "Mommy, where are you?"

Teresa held her tight. "Your mommy's there, too. T'Beth is alright. Simon said."

None of the children mentioned Teresa and Jamie's mother. They all knew that she was still somewhere down here, trapped, as silent as death.

Teresa was wiping away tears when a soft, dim light dispelled the darkness. Suddenly the buzzing seemed louder. Then more daylight spilled in all around them and she could see James and Bethany clearly. Big hopeful eyes shone in their dirty faces.

The noise stopped.

James reached up and banged hard with his fist on the underside of the butcher block. "We're down here! Under this table! Right here!"

"Oh my God," a voice said directly above them. It was Simon. He rapped on the block with something hard. "Do you hear that?" he called out. "Is this where you are? Right underneath?"

"Yes!" all three of them yelled.

"Hurry!" Teresa cried.

The voices consulted and then came more buzzing. There was the sound of chunks wrenching loose, things being hurled. Little by little a space began to open behind James, and hands reached into the void, grasping at debris.

Then everything went silent again. Overhead there was a scuffling. A large pair of athletic shoes appeared in the hole by Jamie's back, then two denim-clad legs. Simon bent down, peeked under the table, and counted noses.

His voice choking up, he asked, "You kids want out?"

"Yeah," Teresa said with a sniffle.

He asked, "Where's Mom?"

Teresa began to cry.

"We don't know," James said, just above a whisper. Teresa knew he was trying to keep from crying, too.

Simon reached under the table. "Come on, you guys."

James went up first. Teresa moved Bethany into place and watched her little niece disappear up the hole. Finally there was room enough to stretch her legs, but they still felt stiff and wobbly when her turn came.

Simon's strong arms lifted her. Uncle Jim reached from above and pulled her out into the fog. The air smelled damp and clean. She hugged Jim hard, then they started climbing off the wreckage together. Below them, she could see Aaron reach the ground and carry Bethany over to T'Beth. She saw James holding onto their father, and she made herself speed up. Then she was off the debris pile and she was hugging Daddy, too. Her arms were still around him when Simon walked up and looked into their father's eyes.

"Mom wasn't with them," he reported. "The children said…she hasn't made a sound and they don't know where she is."

Spock's face went very grim, and it seemed to Teresa that he held her a little tighter. Then very gently he turned her and James over to Uncle Jim, who found them water and food and warm blankets. While Teresa ate, Daddy and Simon stood at a distance, speaking in low voices.

oooo

The sun was breaking through the fog when a rescue team landed at the foot of the driveway. Experts immediately took stock of the situation and began setting up their remote beaming apparatus. Simon, Jim, and Aaron came down from the work site and drank deeply of the bottled water provided by the team. Then they each chose a resting place and sank to the ground, too exhausted to be disturbed by the continuing aftershocks. At each tremor, the children froze and stared at the wreckage where Lauren was still trapped. When the earth grew still, they moved about dispiritedly, for the first joy of their release had passed and they were deeply worried.

Only Spock remained at the base of the debris, as if his proximity to Lauren might somehow strengthen her. T'Beth took water to him and for the first time since the earthquake, he drank. Handing back the empty bottle, he thanked her and switched on the tricorder. After capturing Lauren's readings, he showed the screen to T'Beth and she understood that it would a secret between them. Lauren's life signs were fading.

A terrible chill crept over her. _Why was the extraction taking so long?_ She could see that the team was having trouble with their equipment. She could see Bethany and the other children bending over some flowers, touching them carefully, as if it mattered now whether the planting was ruined. She thought of their gardener, old Mr. Sakata, and his wrinkled little wife. Had they survived this? In her heart she whispered a fervent prayer.

Leaving her father, she walked over to the children. "Go ahead," she said, "pick all the flowers you want. We won't be living here for a long time." _Maybe never again,_ she thought sadly.

The children just looked at her.

"Where are we going to live?" Teresa asked.

T'Beth forced her lips to smile. "At the beach house." _By all reports, it might well be habitable._ "Won't that be fun?"

Bethany clapped her hands in excitement. "Goodie! Goodie! We get to live at the ocean!"

Teresa and James exchanged a somber glance, then slowly began picking flowers. "For Mom," Teresa said.

T'Beth went looking for Jim. She found him on a sunny patch of lawn near Spock's skimmer, stretched out on his back, hands under his head. As she gazed down at him, his eyes opened. For a moment she just stood there, ashamed.

Then she gathered enough courage to speak. "It was a rotten thing I said to you, up there. Jim, I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. You sacrificed a lot to come here and help, and I really do appreciate it. We all do."

Some of the weariness seemed to leave his face. His eyes twinkled with the legendary Kirk humor. "An apology?" he quipped. "What I really want is those cookies. Why else do you think I came?"

There was an old, familiar tug at her heart, but she smiled her way through it. _Would she ever get over this man completely?_ A little part of her still loved him with all the intensity of a teenage crush. He would probably never be an "Uncle" Jim, but the teen years belonged to the past. Now there was someone else waiting to take her by the hand and walk with her into the future.

Thinking of Aaron, she turned.

At that instant a cry went up from the work site. "Here she comes!"

oooo

There were three of them crowded on the bench seat of the air ambulance, but Spock scarcely took notice of Jim, or of Simon, who sat holding the bouquet of wilting flowers pressed upon him by Teresa. His attention was fully focused on the pale figure strapped to the nearby gurney and the limp fingers held in his hand. Onsite, Lauren had received emergency treatment to reduce the swelling in her brain, but blood still seeped through a bandage on her head. Beneath her blanket, her right leg was swollen and gory from a serious crush injury.

He watched the technician adjust Lauren's I.V. cuff and scan a small medical monitor. Occasionally the tech spoke to her in a reassuring tone, as if she was fully alert.

"Oh yeah, you're doing fine now…I bet you were glad to get out of there…bouncy ride, isn't it…never mind, we'll be at the hospital in a minute…"

They were halfway to Sacramento when Lauren opened her eyes.

"Mom," Simon said.

Spock squeezed her hand more tightly. _Was it a little warmer?_ Slowly she turned her head and gave him a groggy look. Her blue eyes went to Simon, to Jim, to the tech, and back again to Spock.

"Aisha," he said, unashamed of the endearment. "You are on your way to a hospital. There was an earthquake. Do you remember?"

For a long moment she seemed to be thinking. Then weakly she said, "The children…?"

Relieved to hear her speaking, Spock replied, "They are safe. T'Beth and Aaron have received clearance to fly them to the beach house in our skimmer. You saved them. You got them under the table in time."

She smiled and her eyelids drooped. But then she summoned the strength to look again, and her eyes settled back on Jim. "The baby…?"

"She's healthy and strong," Jim said, leaning forward, "and so is Antonia. As a matter of fact…" Now that they were clear of San Francisco, he drew out his phone and this time the call to his wife went through. Antonia was awaiting discharge at the hospital in Boise. Jim told her that he would beam out of Sacramento and take them home.

When the call was over, Jim said with a yawn, "And when I get back to the ranch, I'm going to pull the covers over my head and sleep for a week."

Spock turned to him, one eyebrow raised. "Clearly you have no experience with newborns."

They arrived at Sacramento's Mercy Hospital, where Lauren was whisked away for further evaluation of her injuries. Spock attempted to accompany her, only to be stopped by a triage nurse who said, "We'll take care of her, Mr. Vulcan. Let's see about that wrist of yours."

With Jim and Simon following along, he was firmly escorted to an emergency room cubicle and ordered to lie down.

Satisfied, the nurse said, "Someone will be in to take your information." And then she strode off, leaving the curtain swaying in her wake.

Stifling a smile, Jim said, "Looks like they run a tight ship around here. That's my cue to go. Spock, keep me posted on that wife of yours, okay?"

Spock felt a tightening in his throat as he rose up to take leave of his friend. "Jim…there are not sufficient words to thank you."

He held out his left arm, and for a moment they embraced one another.

Then with an emotional smile Jim stepped back, clapped Simon on the shoulder, and left.

oooo

T'Beth thought that she had never seen anything so beautiful. Aaron was dozing beside her when she arced in and landed her father's skimmer beside the beach house. Though the earthquake had been felt even here, its destructive power was greatly reduced. Thank God there had been no tsumani. The old house showed no obvious signs of damage. Its white clapboards shone in the late afternoon sun. Roses and honeysuckle rambled over the picket fence Spock had built after the whale-probe storm, before his wedding.

"We're here," she said unnecessarily.

The children were already clamoring to get out. Aaron awakened and went over to check the structure's integrity before T'Beth unlocked the front door. Then they were inside.

Aaron made a quick safety tour. "A couple of minor cracks in a wall," he announced. "They seem inconsequential."

T'Beth relaxed a bit. "Okay, hot showers or baths for everyone. And we even have extra toothbrushes here."

Bethany clung to her and stared fearfully at the ceiling. "Mommy, will this one start shaking and fall down?"

It was important for T'Beth to control her own fears around her daughter. Bethany was more than half Sy and growing increasingly sensitive to emotions. Dropping to one knee, she put her arms around the child. "I thought you were excited about living here. Don't worry. It's safe. There might be a little tremor or two, but nothing bad will happen. Let's get cleaned up, and I'll fix something to eat."

Bethany seemed to accept the reassurance.

T'Beth turned to Aaron. He looked filthy and exhausted. "You can shower in my parents' bathroom," she told him. "Turn right at the top of the stairs. Get whatever you need out of Spock's clothes. I'll check the phone."

There were dozens of messages. Relatives, friends, colleagues—everyone had phoned here hoping against hope for word that they were alive. For now she composed a brief, all-purpose reply—"All is well. More later." And with a voice command, she sent it off.

After showering, she felt much better. She came downstairs in a pair of clean, comfortable jeans and an old sweater. Aaron had gathered the children at the kitchen table and was amusing them with a series of mathematical tricks. He looked handsome and relaxed in her father's clothes. Coming up from behind, she slipped her arms around him and kissed his neck.

Softly she said, "I'm so glad you're here. You can stay, can't you—at least for the night? If I bunk with Bethany and Teresa, it will free up a bed for you."

He tipped his head and smiled up at her, dark eyes tender with love. "I'd like nothing better. The ban on inbound travel is still in effect. There's nothing I can do until I receive word from Starfleet."

So far they had been unable to contact Headquarters. The Airbike was loaded in the skimmer, along with Simon's violin and a few other items. Once the restrictions were lifted, Aaron could ride the bike back to base, if need be. Meanwhile, they rummaged in the cupboards and found enough ingredients to throw together a warm meal. Canned chili, biscuits, and jam. They were scraping the bottoms of their bowls when the phone chimed. T'Beth had set the filter to signal only calls from close family.

Teresa and James jumped out of their chairs and beat her to the phone. When T'Beth got there, the screen was already engaged.

"Well, I see you guys got there okay," Simon was saying. "I gather the house is still in one piece?" Looking tired but happy, he did not wait for a reply. "Mom's doing great. She came to on the ambulance. Now her head is a lot better and she's talking up a storm. They've got more work to do on her leg, though."

"Where's Father?" James asked.

"Under the endoscope for his wrist. He'll need a few more treatments. Don't expect us back for a while. It's really crowded here, but they found us a couple of cots. When Mom's ready, we'll all come home together."

oooo

The children spent the evening in a happy mood, but when bedtime came, they grew nervous.

"What if it starts shaking again?" Bethany worried as T'Beth tucked her into bed with Teresa.

"It won't shake hard," T'Beth promised. "We flew away from the scary place. It's nowhere near us now. Just cuddle up with Teresa and listen to the ocean. Isn't it nice? I'll be coming to bed in a little while, right here with you."

She kissed their warm foreheads, then went down the hallway to check on James. She knew her little brother would not want a kiss. He had reached the age where he was already trying to be a man, even if he did not quite understand what that meant.

Standing over his bed, she asked, "Jamie, are you going to be alright in here by yourself?"

"Of course," he insisted, but his voice did not sound very firm.

"Well, if you get lonely or scared or anything, Aaron said you could go in with him. Goodnight."

"G'night." James turned on his side and pulled the blanket over his pointed ear.

T'Beth went downstairs. It had grown dark outside. Aaron stood gazing out a window at the moonlit ocean.

"Don't be surprised," she warned, "if you have a visitor tonight. The kids are all scared. They'll probably have nightmares."

Turning, Aaron took her hand and drew her close to him. Looking into her eyes, he said, "And you. Are you still frightened?"

She knew that he was not referring to the quake, and her heart began to pound. "For a while, I _was_ confused," she admitted, "but now I'm seeing things clearly. No situation is ever perfect, is it? When we're together I feel cherished and safe. I love you. I want to be with you, even if that means turning my life in a whole new direction. The work on Sydok will go on, whether I'm there or not. God will use me wherever I am. I'm putting in for a marriage transfer."

Aaron studied her face. "And what of James Kirk?"

She had not expected him to be so direct, but she had her answer ready. "Jim is part of my past; I can't deny that and I can't change it. But now only the present matters—and the future. And Aaron, they belong to us."

His hand tightened on hers. "You're so beautiful, T'Beth. You're making it very difficult for me to remain a gentleman."

"Must you _always_ be a gentleman?" She touched a hand to the back of his neck playfully, and Sy energy began to spill from her.

He crushed her close. Their mouth met in a searing kiss that seemed to go on and on.

T'Beth came away as breathless as him. "I'm tired of waiting," she said. "We'll get married as soon as Lauren gets out of the hospital."

"Mrs. Cristabeth Pascal," he said, and kissed her thoroughly again.

oooo

T'Beth sat at the dressing table and watched in its mirror as Lauren put the finishing touches on her hair.

"There," Lauren said, "how's that? We'll add the flowers later, so they don't wilt."

T'Beth turned her head this way and that. Her dark hair was mostly swept up, except for a cascade of curls at the back and a few ringlets framing her face. She said, "Looks good to me. Do you think Aaron will like it?"

"I think Aaron will like every inch of you."

T'Beth laughed and let Lauren help her into the lacy, cream-colored gown that Lauren had worn for her own wedding, and later stored here at the beach house. It had needed very little alteration. Though slender, T'Beth was no longer reed thin. And now with the ceremony so near, she was getting more than a little nervous.

Taking a deep breath, she wondered, "Is Aaron here yet?"

Lauren fastened the zipper. "Yes, he's here. You already asked."

"Did I? What about the chaplain?"

"I don't know." Lauren pulled at the dress until she was satisfied.

Casting a frantic glance out the window, T'Beth cried, "It's still foggy! Where's the sun? It has to be sunny, it just _has_ to!"

"It will be," Lauren promised. Limping over to the bed, she sat down to wait. The light brace she wore would not be coming off anytime soon. She had come close to losing the leg altogether.

"You and Father had such a big wedding." T'Beth vividly remembered that summer day at the Vulcan Embassy, and how dreadfully she had behaved.

"Are you wishing that yours was bigger?"

"No, really," T'Beth insisted. "I wanted it small and simple—just the immediate family. We've been through so much. If you start inviting one person, you have to invite them all. As for Jim—well, it's always been kind of sticky with him, you know that. I'm sure he and Antonia understand."

Lauren nodded. "They do. And I give you my word, I've kept my mouth shut. I haven't invited anyone else. But I can't vouch for your father."

T'Beth heard a groundcar and rushed over to the window, but it was impossible to see anything in the fog. "Now who's that? It can't be the chaplain. He said he was beaming in from the base."

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Lauren went over, cracked it open, and peeked through the opening. Spock stood in the hallway, appropriately clothed in a suit. It was not his very best one, but like so many other things, his best clothes were back in the earthquake zone.

"Good, it's you," Lauren said, and stepped out of the bedroom. "What are the children doing? I can hear them all the way up here."

"They are, as you say, 'burning off excess energy'."

She felt a surge of irritation. "Well, can't you do something with them? And what about the chaplain? Is he here yet?"

His eyebrow rose perceptibly. "Do calm yourself, Lauren. That is what I came to tell you. The chaplain has arrived."

She sighed. "That fog had better burn off soon. Keep Aaron occupied, will you? I don't want him sneaking up here. He shouldn't see T'Beth before the ceremony."

The Vulcan eyebrow climbed higher. "My dear wife, have you become superstitious? We saw one another before our wedding ceremony. No harm came of it."

"Oh? Maybe that's why our reception went to pot. Maybe that's why the first year of our marriage was a disaster. Please don't argue, just keep Aaron downstairs. Can't you do that much for me?"

"Yes, darling," he said dryly, "it shall be as you wish."

She gave him a sharp look. _"Darling!"_ she huffed. "Don't get sarcastic with me. If I had _my_ wish…" Suddenly her voice choked off and she was struggling to hold back tears.

"Lauren," he said very patiently, "we all wish that events had occurred differently, but wishing serves no useful purpose. Let us be thankful just to have one another. Many families were not so fortunate."

She sighed again, but the anger had left her. "I know. Just watch out for Aaron, okay? And at least keep the children clean."

This time Spock thought it better to say nothing at all. He simply gave Lauren a nod, then headed downstairs. Patients recovering from serious head injuries often experienced changeable moods; eventually she would become more even-tempered. For now, he was very grateful just to have her alive.

Spock reached the living room where the younger children were chasing each other with noisy abandon.

"Father!" Simon called over the din. "Look who's here!"

"One moment," Spock said. And assuming a stern manner, he snapped, "James! Teresa! Bethany!"

The youngsters recognized the tone and came to a halt.

Spock pointed to the sofa. "Sit down and be silent. Do not move from there until I give you leave."

Each and every one of them dutifully obeyed.

Across the room, someone clapped appreciatively, and Spock knew that his secret guest had arrived.

Doctor Leonard McCoy grinned at him and drawled, "Y'know, Spock, a hickory stick works just about as well."

Spock greeted his old Starfleet friend. Together they joined Aaron and the chaplain at the computer, where Spock had been showing them his study of the tectonic strain sensors' failure. Since the quake, he had been monitoring the pressure in the tectonic plates all along the West Coast. Though it was not his area of expertise, the data both fascinated and troubled him.

When next he looked up, sun shone through the windows.

Lauren was carefully making her way down the stairs. "It's time," she said.

oooo

T'Beth stood at the top of the staircase awaiting Lauren's signal, her fingers tight on a spray of yellow roses and honeysuckle that matched the flowers in her hair. A dizzying life review rushed through her mind while her heart hammered crazily. From outside came the introductory notes of Simon's violin. It was the composition she had chosen—Simon's hymn of love, "Turn Not Your Eyes from Me".

She swallowed hard and forced away the tears.

Down below, Lauren beckoned to her. T'Beth's legs felt unsteady as she descended the steps. Upon reaching Lauren, she threw her arms around her and held tight.

"You've been a real mother to me," she choked out, "and a real friend."

She turned to her father and his calm presence steadied her. His lips curved into a warm but restrained smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Then he offered her his arm.

Taking hold, she smiled back at him. What a strange joke it seemed, after all the early years of turmoil. The father she despised had become dear to her. And now she was marrying his friend and protégé.

Bethany crowded in with her basket of rose petals. "Mommy," she exclaimed, "you're so pretty!"

"So are you," T'Beth told her. "With that lovely dress and those golden curls, you look just like an angel."

Then Lauren gripped Bethany's little hand and led the way. They filed out the front door, down the porch steps, into the sunlit yard. The restless sound of the ocean provided a background to Simon's hauntingly beautiful music. A sharp scent of sea spray filled the air. T'Beth looked neither right nor left. Her eyes focused straight ahead, to the gate where Aaron awaited her in his dress uniform.

Lauren and Bethany reached the end of the walkway and moved somewhere out of sight. Father placed T'Beth before the Starfleet chaplain, then went to Aaron's side where he would double as best man.

The music finished.

There was an overpowering sense of Aaron's nearness. Feeling suddenly shy, T'Beth glanced over at him and his gentle eyes devoured her with love.

The voice of the chaplain drew her attention. She did her best to listen to his preamble on the sanctity of marriage and its duties. The moment came to exchange the time-honored vows, and then they placed rings upon one another's fingers.

The chaplain pronounced them husband and wife. Now they truly belonged to each other. Aaron drew her into his arms and as they kissed, applause rang out.

Simon took up his violin and began a traditional wedding theme. But within a few bars, it transformed into a rustic fiddling variation, no doubt of his own creation. T'Beth gaped at her brother in amazement. When had he started fiddling?

The family crowded in to congratulate them. Then, as if out of nowhere, a gray-haired Starfleet officer stepped in front of T'Beth.

"Well," Doctor McCoy said wryly, "do I get a hug or don't I?"

"Bones!" T'Beth threw her arms around him. "I thought you were off in Georgia."

Stepping back, he looked her over. "Damn, you look good. Who's this whippersnapper that stole my favorite girl?"

She laughed. "You know Aaron Pascal. He developed the Cell Transmigrator that got Jim up and walking."

The two men shook hands.

"If she gives you any trouble," McCoy told Aaron, "just you let me know. I've been tryin' to keep her in line since she was about this size." His hand estimated the height of an eleven-year-old. _"Tryin',"_ he emphasized, "not necessarily succeeding."

T'Beth felt herself blushing and laughed again.

There was a luncheon, complete with champagne and wedding cake; an afternoon of sweet reminiscing while sea birds wheeled in the cloudless sky overhead. As the sun dropped toward the horizon, the newlyweds changed into traveling clothes and offered their farewells.

"We'll be back in a week," T'Beth promised her little daughter. "Next time, you can come with us."

Aaron lifted Bethany into his arms for a hug. She kissed his bearded face and in a timid voice said, "Bye, Daddy."

T'Beth held tight to Aaron's hand as they walked to his skimmer for a short flight to the nearest transporter hub. Their luggage was already stowed, and a cottage awaited them in the mountains of France where Aaron had spent most of his childhood.

"Enjoy the Alps!" Lauren shouted.

Then they were on their way.

oooOOooo


End file.
